Blacktail Deer Plateau she'd kick you out

the morning is early, the sun having not even risen in the sky when ingram wakes with a small start and heads to the developing borders. physical borders of the plateau itself offer a decent outline and ingram pauses every so often as he walks them to mark territory.

it is routine, this patrolling ...and one that the dreadfather settles into readily. easily.

the fog is thick and heavy in the air where the treeline thins and his steps become slower; more alert and guarded even. sound is different when swallowed and redistributed by fog and the moonbeams barely slice through it.

he pauses along a stretch of border, taking in the scents before lifting his leg to reinforce it.

The idea of idle travel through foreign territory was not one that pleased. These wilds had not grown on him, nor may they ever. Sanguinex was a traveler, yes, but this place was not one he would call home.

Though a gargantuan, and even when sometimes he find difficulty doing so, he does his best to walk with silence. When in a place unknown, it is better not to be found disturbing another. Besides, who wanted someone like him to stick around — with knowledge of his true nature, that is?

So he would lay low... for now.

a foreign scent is carried along by the autumn wind as it rustles the pastry brown and candied orange leaves at ingram's paws. it tickles the dreadfather's nostrils and propels him in the stranger's direction. steps are steady, pressing with purpose against the earth.

seaglass gaze cuts across the treeline when the ivory, mottled male's figure comes into his view.

ingram slows upon his approach, giving a low chuff; gaze assessing.

hail stranger. rumbles the dreadfather in his deep, smoky timbre.

Trailing slowly, the gargantuan came to a pause only when a deep rumble caught his attention. He was not alone, for another had found him.

The deathbringer's heavy gaze found the man that had spoken. They were of dark fur and a rather brazen complexion. Curious.

These lands are not barren, so it seems. Sanguinex rumbled in return, lip quivering slightly in query. 

His plan to stay hidden had failed. Would this first interaction be what turns him away from this wilderness?

no, ingram replies, tone neutral; seaglass gaze studying the stranger with a cool assessment. this plateau is inhabited. though there were sectors of borders he and his wolves had yet to and that is the only reason he is not so ...territorial. that and they needed more bodies to survive the winter — that was a given.

i am ingram, he introduces himself, offering a small pause before continuing with his title: the dreadfather of this place.

Dreadfather. He repeats, getting a taste for the name on his own tongue. An interesting title, if I may be so bold to say... Sanguinex was no gentleman, nor did he care for formalities; but when it came down to it, he was here, standing on another's territory. The last thing he needed to do was step on anyone's tail too hard and pick a fight he wasn't prepared for.

Ingram had been the second given name option. But he liked the first. So, Dreadfather it would be.

I am called by the name Sanguinex. Though, alike you, I too have a second name that was bestowed upon me. In my home of birth, my people had named me Deathbringer. It wasn't a name many strangers knew him by, but none truly knew him anyhow, so why did it matter what they called him?

it holds its roots in my religion, in my culture. as seer and warrior, vessel of the god sithis. ingram explains, despite the want to keep this information as close to his chest as he once kept his nightwife's secrets.

and which name do you prefer? ingram inquires, seaglass eyes searching the other man's face. scarred lips lift in a wily smile for a moment; a ghosting gesture that is there and gone like a phantom.

we — he gestures then to the territory behind him, encompassing the wolves he has thus gathered. are basilica. even if this deathbringer does not join them, perhaps he'd be willing to spread word of them, at the very least.

So. He was a religious man. Sanguinex had never spoken of spirits in any intimate way, but that did not mean he held no belief. It was refreshing to meet another that held them in high regards. Perhaps he could learn a thing or two from this man.

Which did he prefer? Neither, truthfully. You may call me whichever you see fit. Names only mean something if believed fit to he whom claims it. Would this reasoning be deemed sensible? Some understood it well, while other dismissed it entirely. It was of which that made out the truth of those deciding. 

Basilica? An interesting name. And does it, too hold religious regards of your people? A genuine curiosity. 

then for now, i shall call you deathbringer. a wiry smile forms upon scarred muzzle; a small bird-like cant of his head given. a gesture of non-vocalized curiosity. i like it. but of course he did, he who was born war-reaper; committer of matricide.

his own choice does not surprise ingram in the least.

it does, ingram replies to the inquiry 'round basilica's origins. we are a blend of faiths. of commanders and daedra and bear gods. he thinks, then, of ash paw and how she and her gods have carved a niche for themselves in his thoughts.

it represents that we are a community. of believers and non-believers. being religious is not a requirement to being one of us. basilica is a haven for all.

The decided choice was pleasing. Sanguinex stared with a gleam of approval. So it will be.

But now onto the topic of Basilica. 

Commanders, Daedra, Bear Gods. He wondered where he would fit, if at all.

And what of a deathbringer? Would Basilica have such a use for he?

it would. ingram replies to the question posed to him. a triad of ranks that are perfect for a deathbringer. a wiry smile ghosts across his features for a moment. dagger. silencer. executioner. each a stepping stone, a testament of skill. of loyalty.

a deathbringer's skills would always be welcome. there will be sacrifices to be made. enemies to be slain. because if there was one thing ingram was decidedly good at: it was making enemies.

There were many ranks suited for him here. Dreadfather listed them. Each led to the next, no doubt, but Sanguinex was willing to climb.

If there was a place for him, why not take it? It was too good of an opportunity to pass up. If there is a place for me, then consider myself a deathbringer eager to be at your service. Hardly ever was he eager for anything. This was a special circumstance, among only a few others.

i went ahead and archived with my post since it seemed a good place to wrap up. <3

then you are welcomed among basilica's ranks deathbringer. ingram murmurs, inducting him into the ranks with that simple welcome. you will start out as druid. soon, i will come to you with a task that will help you climb to dagger. he does not strive to keep his followers from their ambitions for too long.

once they were more than foundling, once they had a secure foothold in these wilds, he intended to seek them each out, individually.

come, beckons the dreadfather. i will give you the tour.